


From Shadows

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ascian Possession (Final Fantasy XIV), Don't copy to another site, Gen, Implied Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Machinist Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Not Canon Compliant, Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: His name is Thancred Waters, and his goal is to bring back the one true god.A deliberately non-canon compliant take on what Ascian possession is like.





	From Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic last September. Why did 3k words take me so long? Beats me.
> 
> Many thanks to Oneironym and JanuaryBlue for helping me out with this.

His name is Thancred Waters, and his goal is to bring back the one true god.

He opens his eyes and looks at the world, at Hydaelyn, at the deserts and steppes of Thanalan. The path forward is so clear, so obvious, that he doesn't understand why he's only now seen it. How could he have been so confused? 

Zodiark must return, and for that to happen Hydaelyn must burn. That is his mission. 

He ignores the strange wish to return to his so-called friends and sets out to work. He's been wanting to contribute more to the cause, after all. 

 

 

Thancred stands over the dead bodies of A'aba, Aulie and so many others. The Garleans have done great work here; capturing those that are important, disposing of those that are not. 'Tis a pity that they haven't caught all of them, but that much was unavoidable. Rarely are all the Scions at the Waking Sands at the same time. They're far too busy for that. 

How handy that is, too. He's been absent a lot after finding the truth, and they haven't suspected a thing. They likely still haven't. Too trusting for their own good, all of them. Oh, how he wishes he could have seen their faces when the Garleans had barged into the Waking Sands, when they'd realised that all was lost. How great a sight it must have been! To watch their expression shift from shock to fear and anger and finally to defeat!

Laughter bubbles up in his chest, while at the same time he feels as if he's choking. He coughs, and when he reaches up to his face, he's surprised to find it wet to the touch. Is he crying? But why? He's shed his allegiances to the Scions. Grieving for them makes no sense. 

It must be a purely physical reaction. Yes, that's clearly the reason. What a pitiful vessel mortal bodies make. Incorporeal existence is so much easier to bear. He yearns for the day he can attain it, the day when they won't need to inhabit these accursed planes that should never have existed in the first place. 

Tears start dripping from his chin.

 

 

Such a magnificent tool of destruction, the Ultima Weapon. It towers above Thancred, motionless and yet ready to be deployed whenever the Garleans finish their reconnaissance. Not that their precious readings and measurements are in any way needed, but it appears that they don't trust him fully. Wise of them, perhaps, but in the end, it will matter little. What few foolish plans they may hatch will be easily outmaneuvered.

Unbidden thoughts about not underestimating the Garleans rise up in his head. He remembers that too, from when he considered himself a Scion. How they respected the Garleans' capabilities—despised them, certainly, but never understimated them. Perhaps it had been sensible, at the time. The Scions are naught but ants, desperately struggling to avoid their inevitable end. Of course they fear the Garleans; fools they are all the same, but fools that can squash the Scions if they so wish. 

And when they've done so, they'll meet the same end. Tools that are no longer useful can safely be melted down, to be forged anew into something more useful. 

The Heart of Sabik, embedded deep in the Ultima Weapon, calls out to him. Yearning to be filled with power. Yearning to be used. As soon as the primals plaguing Eorzea have been absorbed, everything will be ready. 

Very soon, all pieces will be in place. 

 

 

“Lahabrea,“ Gaius says. 

Thancred isn't quite sure why he gave the man a fake name. It isn't as if he hasn't told him that he's supposedly part of the Scions. He would have guessed it anyway, with all the information Thancred has given him about them. 

So why did he say his true name is Lahabrea? What purpose did that serve?

“What is it now?“ he replies, somewhat belatedly. If Gaius notices the slight delay, he doesn't show it.

“My engineers have gone over the schematics again and have found some… irregularities. Explain yourself.“ 

Thancred resists the urge to roll his eyes and bites down on a snarky reply. Such a pesky man, this distrustful Garlean. He's certainly not wrong to be suspicious, not in the slightest, but it's so very inconvenient. Now he has to spend time and effort on reassuring him so he won't back out of the plan, time that could be spent doing more productive things, like flirting with that—no, what is he thinking? That's not productive at all. 

“Of course there are irregularities. The Ultima Weapon is an ancient Allagan weapon that you've barely been able to activate with your own technology, and not even the Allagans themselves understood the Heart of Sabik. How could any schematic you draft up ever hope to be complete?“ 

“That,“ Gaius says, voice muffled by the helmet and yet sharp as a knife, “does not answer my question.“

 _Technically, what you said wasn't a que—_ no, no wisecracks here. “Very well, if you insist… Show me what your so-called engineers have found.“ 

They go over the report. Thancred lies, deflects and sometimes even answers truthfully to dispell Gaius' concerns. He does wonder, though. How did he come to know these things? He hasn't studied magitek in any formal capacity, nor is he a scholar on ancient Allag. He doesn't understand how the Ultima Weapon works, but somehow he knows what to answer, and when his answers are correct and when they are not. 

Fortunately, Gaius doesn't seem to realise any of that. He eventually nods and gathers up the material to leave. It's obvious that he's as suspicious as ever, but apparently he ran out of things to ask. Finally. The closer they come to executing their plan— _his_ , Thancred's, plan, really—the longer these sessions go on. 

But this one may have been the very last one. They're close now. Soon, Gaius will head out with the Weapon to absorb Garuda and put her powers to use in service of a greater cause, namely bringing fourth 

(the Seventh Dawn)

the next Rejoining.

 

 

Thancred stands atop the crumbling walls of the Stone Vigil and waits for the so-called Bringer of Light. They, along with the

(comrades)

dregs that escaped the Garlean raid will come to reclaim the airship lying broken on the other end of the courtyard. A desperate plan hatched to slay Garuda, whose might far surpasses that of the other Primals they felled with the blasphemous gift they refer to as the Echo. Victory is far from assured, and he hopes for the sake of his plans that the Bringer of Light will succeed.

No, he hopes they will _fail_ , and perish in the process. 

Thancred shakes his head, hoping to clear his mind. Sometimes he catches himself thinking strange things. It's as if the Scions' lies still persist in him, even though he's long shed them in favour of the truth. How unsettling, to feel his thoughts shift in this manner… 

And here the vaunted Warrior of Light comes with their entourage, the last pitiful remnants of the Scions: an overconfident youth and a man who's spent the last five years as a befuddled madman. Truly, they fit well into the Warrior's vicinity. 

Thancred watches the other two approach the ruined airship. They mean to avoid the dragon sleeping in the courtyard, then? Hardly a bad idea. They're not here to liberate the Stone Vigil, and they can't afford to let Garuda do as she wishes while wasting time on futile battles. And perhaps they would have been able to get away with it, if not for the fact that he won't let them. As much as he doesn't believe that the Warrior can stand against the Lady of the Vortex, there's no reason not to make sure they won't even reach her. 

He teleports away from the walls and next to Isgebind. The Warrior draws the firearms hanging from their back and faces him, expression fearless and determined. Of course. Their confidence is admirable, never doubting, never wavering, never letting anyone down. More than once, Thancred has found himself wishing he could be more like them, 

(wishing he could be with them,)

to be more helpful to the Scions of the one true god. 

Fortunately, he now has the power to fulfill that wish. Confidence is easy when backed by might.

With a single snap of his fingers, the darkness surges and enters Isgebind. The dragon stirs, slowly at first and then furiously raising its wings heavensward with a mighty roar. Even now, the Warrior does not flinch. Valiant till the very end, even in the face of the greatest danger.

“Let us see how your blasphemous gifts serve you this time, Heartbreaker.“

It's almost imperceptible, that minute twitch in the Warrior's face. A slight look of confusion, vanishing as quickly as it came. Did he say something strange agai—

That nickname. He remembers calling them Heartbreaker, because of the broken hearts they painted on their bullets, something to do with one of their abilities… When they'd gotten closer, it had become a joke between them. 

He's slipped up. Revealing his identity at this point would do no good, but there's nothing he can do about it now. If the Warrior has figured it out, then so be it. It won't matter much in the end. The dragon has awoken and it's time for him to leave. With any luck, none of the three will make it out of the Stone Vigil alive. 

 

 

Thancred watches, hidden from sight, as Gaius makes his meaningless offer to the Warrior of Light. He still doesn't realise that it isn't his designs that will be fulfilled tonight. Thancred doesn't care much about Cid, save that he's a useful tool in the hands of his enemies, but the Warrior of Light will not be allowed to leave the castrum alive. They've been lucky before. They will not be lucky again. 

Predictably, they decline the offer, and equally predictably they vanquish the hulking steel giant that Gaius sends out to meet them in battle. How ludicrous to think that the Warrior of Light would fall to such a pitiful foe. They're stronger than that. 

Thancred watches as they make their way through the fortress, as they face Nero and give him a solid thrashing, as they catch up with Gaius once more and listen to his prattling, and finally as they stand before the Ultima Weapon, firearms drawn and ready. 

They make a brave effort, fighting Gaius and the Ultima Weapon to the brink of defeat. Not even the ancient Allagan war machine is enough to stop them, it seems. And so Thancred decides to intervene. Gaius' performance is pathetic and he doesn't feel like watching it any longer, and perhaps the information he's about to dispense will be useful to his friend. 

He appears floating in mid-air, next to the Weapon, and talks about the Heart of Sabik (as if any of them could even understand its true nature), about Ultima, about the one true god. Gaius, that old fool, finally appears to realise that he's been played when Thancred initiates the casting of Ultima. From within the bubble around the Weapon, he safely watches the blindingly bright energy surge, destroying everything in its path and leaving nothing but carnage in its wake.

Nothing except for Hydaelyn's champion, whose blessing of light has protected them one last time. He can feel that Hydaelyn has reached Her limits. All that remains now is to fell

(his friend)

his enemy

(Gaius)

the Bringer of Light the one true god Hydaelyn—

Thancred blinks, trying to sort out his mess of a mind without showing any outward signs. He's thought he had conquered these silly thoughts, but this… episode had been far worse than any before it. His thoughts are jumbled. 

He needs a moment to himself. 

With a few parting words, he vanishes into darkness and leaves Gaius to do the rest. 

 

 

Thancred looks down at Gaius' lifeless body on the smoldering ground. How useless a tool. Even given control of such might, even with Hydaelyn robbed of her power, he wasn't able to defeat the Warrior of Light. Pathetic. Oh so fortuna—pathetic… 

It seems as if he will have to finish the work himself. 

He faces the Warrior and, on a whim, begins telling him the truth of what ails the planet; how Hydaelyn must be excised, how the true god needs to return. Perhaps they will be wise enough to see the truth, too, just as he himself had. They've not been given the chance yet. Mayhap, if they can only see it, he will be able to fight side by side with them again. As he talks, he realises just how much he wants that. It seems that the truth hasn't liberated him of his previous bonds completely. That must be why his thoughts are so jumbled, and in that case extending a hand to the Warrior will only worsen things. 

He does it anyway.

Of course, they decide not to take it, thereby sealing their own fate. 

Maybe killing them will free him from these confusing moments for good. 

 

 

Thancred finds himself in a void permeated with Hydaelyn's influence. The Warrior floats in front of him, enveloped in Her power. He strikes first, and they meet him with a weapon made of pure light.

The searing pain that follows is the last thing he remembers. 

 

 

 

His name is Thancred Waters, and they say his goal is to stop the Ascians from bringing back the one true god. 

He wants to do more, to do better, to bring forth his god's return. No, to follow in Louisoix's footsteps, which entails forestalling that return. He thinks that's what he wants. It's what 

(those who oppose him)

(his friends) 

say too.

Keeping his thoughts from unravelling is hard. Sometimes he doesn't know what's him and what's the him that he was for a while. He can see the other Scions exchange looks, after he's said something. He figures he must have said something that was the other him, but it's so hard to tell. No matter what it is, it always sounds reasonable to him at the time. When they repeat it back to him, it becomes clear that it isn't, but on his own, he never knows for sure.

That, in part, is probably why they don't allow him to help. He notices what's going on and they aren't keeping things from him, but when he offers to do anything for them, they tell him to take it easy, to rest. 

It's hard, having to stay behind when everyone else is working so hard. He hears Alphinaud and his Heartbreaker talk about F'lhaminn, and then go out and bring her back. He hears them discuss the primals coming back in even greater strength, and he sits and waits as the Warrior of Light ventures out to face them once more. 

It's even harder because he can't tell if he wants them to come back safely or not. 

When the others are around, his thoughts become more focused. It's easier to remember that they're his friends and allies when Yda is cracking jokes and Papalymo shaking his head over them, or when Y'shtola and Urianger discuss some ancient tome they've been studying. The unbidden thoughts about destroying them come less often. He tries his best to be as he always was, or at least as he remembers how he was, during these moments. He jests. He flirts with F'lhaminn and Yugiri and the other Doman newcomers.

And still they exchange those concerned looks. 

With a sigh, he rubs his face. He's alone with his thoughts now, after having fled the Standing Stones and climbed up on the walls of Revenant's Toll. There comes a point where their tip-toeing around him is too much to bear. Things aren't the way they were before, and even though he desperately wishes to return to those days, he doesn't know how to. He's talked to the Students of Baldesion about his condition, but they've been unable to offer a solution.

Mor Dhona stretches out before him. It's night, but the crystals bathe the land in their glow and so he can see as if it were daytime. It's so different now, this land. It used to be green and lively. Now it's just a crystalline wasteland, filled with beasts and Garlean soldiers… 

Footsteps behind him. He turns around and sees Yda clambering up the stairs. She holds out her fist and Thancred obliges, bumps his own fist against hers and simultaneously forces down the urge to punch her in the face instead. She's not his enemy. She's _not._

“Noticed you sneaking off,“ she says. 

Thancred respects her decision to wear a visor, but not being able to see her eyes made it damnably hard to figure out what she's thinking. He spreads his arms in a mock shrug. Hopefully it will come across as convincing. “Really? I must be getting rusty if you noticed. Perhaps I should sneak off more often...“ 

“Don't. I mean—“ Yda fidgets a little, “—you can sneak off if you want, but you don't have to sneak away from us. And don't you dare say that's not what you're doing!“

Thancred sighs. “That's not—“

“What did I just say, Thancred?“ Yda steps forward and pokes him in the chest. Hard. Harder than necessary, really. “We can tell you've putting up a front since you came back. You know you can trust us. You don't have to keep things from us!“ 

Thancred turns away and gazes back over the land. In the distance, he can make out the searchlights on Castrum Centri. “It's not that simple.“ 

“Then try harder to explain it!“

“I was… different, when I was—you know.“ Thancred searches for the right words. “I wasn't just an observer or unconscious, it was me doing these things. A different me. And that me is still here. All those strange things I've been saying, that was him. Or me. I don't even know anymore.“ 

He hasn't told them about this, aside from Minfilia. He hasn't wanted them to know. If they knew, they would never look at him the way they used to again. Why he's telling Yda now, he doesn't understand. Maybe it's because keeping secrets from them is something the other him might have done. They _are_ his friends, after all.

Perhaps it's not so bad that she's wearing that visor. It means he can't see what kind of face she's making right now. 

“Really? I didn't notice a difference.“ 

Thancred stares.

“...that wasn't a good joke, huh?“ 

He shakes his head, but he can tell that his lips are twitching as he watches Yda squirm just a little. Typical. Yda putting her foot in her mouth will never not be funny. 

“A-anyroad, this doesn't change anything,“ she finally says. “We know you're a good person, even if you're a bit, um, confused right now. And if you become evil again, we'll just have to punch you until you stop like last time.“ 

“You sound awfully eager about that.“

“I didn't get to punch you before, rememb— _do_ you remember?“ Yda asks. 

Thancred nods. “Yes, I… remember everything.“ Unfortunately. What he wouldn't give to forget how he relished in hurting his friends. He's been drinking too much over it lately. 

“Then you know Ser Warrior of Light marched straight into the Praetorium and dragged you back out with themselves. They'll do it again if they have to. We all will.“ 

“But what if—“

“I can punch you right here and now if you're going to be stubborn.“ Yda reaches for her weapons.

Thancred takes a cautionary step back. “No need for that, I assure you!“ 

Yda lets go and opens her mouth, but shouting from the plaza beneath them interrupts her. “Yda! Where did you run off to?“

“Confound it, I completely forgot Papalymo asked me to—see you later, I need to go!“ With that, Yda hurries down the stairs at a pace that makes Thancred wonder how she's not falling and breaking her neck. 

He turns back and resumes surveying the land. One of the patrols is making their way up to the gates. They're laughing among each other, and by the looks of it they return with spoils, if the sacks they're carrying are anything to go by. Mayhap they ambushed a Garlean patrol and retrieved something useful. 

And then he realises that he hasn't had a bad thought since Yda came to talk. Even now he doesn't find himself thinking about how foolish the patrolmen are, feeling proud or elated over their meaningless squabbles. This is perhaps the longest moment of reprieve he's had ever since his Heartbreaker expelled Lahabrea. 

The thoughts are going to return, he knows that much. But maybe there's hope for him after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated!


End file.
